Flotsam
by carnifax
Summary: Harvey/Mike. BrownSuits. Harvey should've known Michael Tam was different from the moment he kicked open that cryogenic storage container, expecting to find drugs or guns or Alliance goods, and instead only found the curled-up body of a 17-year-old kid.


**Flotsam**

By carnifax (originally posted to tumblr)  
>Suits<br>Harvey/Mike  
>Rated T<br>Romance | Sci-Fi  
><em>Harvey should've known Michael Tam was different from the moment he kicked open that cryogenic storage container, expecting to find drugs or guns or Alliance goods, and instead only found the curled-up body of a 17-year-old kid.<em>

...so. This happened.

* * *

><p>Michael Tam was…. different. Different from normal people, different even from Simon. And Harvey should've known from the very first moment he kicked that cryogenic storage container open, expecting to find drugs or guns or something stolen from the Alliance, and instead only saw the curled-up body of a 17-year-old kid.<p>

But now, after everything, after Miranda, things had changed. Harvey had felt the world shift when the Alliance handed them a decent (but not enough) sum of money to ensure their silence—although what good that would do, Harvey didn't know, since that video from Miranda had streamed on every screen across the 'Verse. But his world had shifted nonetheless, and now he could barely find stable footing again.

He thought he would have his crew; he always did before. Even Wash and Book now found their ways into his life—Book's bible in the infirmary, pages still ripped out of it from when Mike went a bit atheistic on it; Wash's dinosaurs set atop his console on the bridge, always falling off and always immediately righted—but there was a price to be paid for freedom. The rest of the 'Verse had learned a great truth and felt united by it; his crew fought to spread that word and, because of it, drifted apart.

But Harvey understood. He felt the weight, too, but _this_ ship was his escape, his Serenity. She was put back together and perfectly shiny again, and he had no plans to leave.

The others, though, they needed to get out for a while.

Jessica came up to him after Wash's funeral, her face shining with tears, and he knew before she said a word that she had to go. She never told him if she would come back, but this was her home as much as it was his—and more than that, he trusted her. She helped shape him, he gave her a purpose, and he knew that eventually her wanderings would bring her back.

Litt was harder to read. He took his share of the Alliance money, gave Harvey a broad grin and stepped off at Persephone with the promise of buying guns and whores. He took Norma with him—Harvey had never understood Litt's attachment to that gun—but the rest of his weapons still hung on the wall of his bunk. If Litt had meant to leave forever, he would've taken it all with him; even _he_ wasn't that stupid.

Donna, the 傻瓜, kissed him on the cheek and got into her shuttle, no other words besides, "I'll bring her back safe." And Harvey missed her—he _always_ missed her when she left—but now more than ever it was abundantly clear how unattainable she was. It was like he had never seen the truth before: Companions had _no_ part in this business. He saw it in her eyes, that she had realized it too. He was actually surprised that she hadn't left completely, and a part of him wished that she had. It would've been easier that way.

The good doctor and Rachel stayed, but only because Rachel knew Harvey was 狗屎 with engines and she was too protective of Serenity to let Harvey flick a wrong switch or wreak havoc on the wiring. And in theory it was a nice idea, to stay, but the happy couple spent more time in their now-shared bedroom than they did in the infirmary or the engine room (except when Harvey accidentally walked in on them in a compromising position behind the engine, which is a mistake he will _not_ be making again) so when they requested to stop down at Persephone for the second time in as many months, it was more of a relief than a hassle to oblige them.

And now, docked at Persephone, Serenity was finally, blissfully, quiet. He could hear every creak and rattle of the ship as he sat perched on the edge of the cargo bay's platform, his legs dangling over the edge, propped back on his elbows with his eyes closed.

The silence was lonely, but it was freeing, just as it was whenever he sailed into the black. He never understood the 'Verse as well as he did when soaring through the sky, when the rest of the crew was asleep, when he dimmed the console lights and it was only him and the stars and —

"Storm's passed," a quiet voice came from beside him.

Harvey didn't jump; after so much fighting, things like this stopped bothering him. Instead he opened his eyes and sat up, looking over at Michael, who was sitting cross-legged a few inches away with his gaze directed elsewhere.

"Little albatross," Harvey said in greeting.

"大哥." Mike smiled, looking down at his lap for a moment before he lifted his eyes to meet Harvey's. He stared, openly, and this too seemed normal now.

Without looking away, Harvey raised his eyebrows. "Have you been hiding? Haven't seen you 'round since we touched down on Ariel a week ago."

Mike grinned, wrinkled his nose. "Thought I got captured."

"I did not," Harvey smiled, but it was true. Harvey hadn't let them depart until Simon swore on Rachel's head that his brother was aboard. "Where _were_ you?"

"Hiding," he said, and Harvey laughed. But then the kid's face fell. "_Have_ to hide if the world is afraid of you."

There were thoughts churning behind Michael's eyes—there always were—but for once there was hesitance in them, too. Harvey said nothing. He knew what was coming, and had no desire to hurry it along.

At last, Mike took in a sharp breath and shook his head. "They're thinking about leaving."

Harvey closed his eyes for a moment. He knew Mike could feel his pain, but Harvey had enough pride to at least keep the kid from seeing it outright. He nodded, eyes still closed, and felt a warm hand on his forearm. The touch wasn't comforting; it felt more like a totem of what Harvey was going to lose.

"I know," Harvey finally managed, giving Mike a wry smile. "And it's not fair of me to keep anyone hostage. Now that there's no bounty on you or your brother's head, the good doctor should go, y'know, _be_ a good doctor. And little Rachel's always wanted a kid, or five—"

"They'll have three."

"—and this ship's no place to raise a posse." Harvey paused, swallowing. "And you should find a place, too. It'd… It'd be right. Me and Jessica and Litt, we've all been in the sky too long to live in one place forever. Even Donna gets bored when she's grounded. But you're—"

"No place on the ship for spare cargo," Mike said quietly.

It took Harvey a full few seconds—long enough for Mike to get to his feet and start upstairs—for the meaning of that sentence to take hold.

"Wait, _wait_," Harvey said, lunging up the stairs after him, because _damn_ that kid can move when he wants to. Mike stopped when he reached the catwalk, staring anywhere but at Harvey; the captain came to a halt two steps below him, his pulse throbbing hot under his skin and roaring in his ears.

"When you said that 'they' wanted to leave, you meant—"

"I _meant_ 'them,'" Mike said, still not meeting Harvey's eyes. "I _meant_ Rachel and Simon."

"But not—?"

"But not _me_."

They both stood completely still for what seemed like an eternity before suddenly Harvey was grabbing Mike's chin and pivoting it so that Mike had nowhere to look but at Harvey himself. Harvey opened his mouth to say something—what, he didn't know—when he realized there were tears welling in Mike's eyes, and the entire 'Verse seemed to stop.

This kid—who recited facts and numbers and dates better than a computer, who could pick up a skill with the same ease that he picked up a pillow, who fought without training and destroyed that entire fucking horde of reavers—this brilliant, strong, graceful, beautiful, goddamn _blessing_ of a kid—wanted nothing more than to stay, and Harvey was trying to tell him to leave.

"You threw spare cargo out the airlock nineteen weeks ago," Mike said, voice raw, and then grinned past the tears streaking down his face. "It survived, somehow, but it got very lost."

Harvey knew he should be saying something, promising something, but the despair in Michael's face hurt Harvey worse than any bullet ever could, and all he could do was pull Mike forward by the chin and kiss him, hard, all desperation and apology. He raked a hand through Mike's hair and tightened his fingers in it, feeling a wave of possessiveness that only increased as Mike kissed him back with matching fervor.

Harvey wrapped his free arm around Mike's waist and dragged him closer, pinning him against the catwalk's railing, their hips pushed together and their legs entangled, but still not close enough.

"Stay," was the first coherent thing out of the captain's mouth, murmured into Mike's open mouth between kisses, before Harvey pulled back enough to look him in the eye. "Mike, stay, I _want_ you to _stay_. Live here, for as long as you're willing. _Please_."

Mike crumbled then, his eyes widening and his muscles going slack. He stared at Harvey, running his fingers over Harvey's damaged eye, and swallowed. "I don't want to get lost," he said, exhaling shakily. "Not without you."

Harvey brought Mike into his chest and held him there, letting the kid shake and sniffle into his neck until he was quiet and still again. Then Harvey kissed Mike's forehead and held him tighter, eyes closed. "_No one _is getting lost," he said as Mike's arms tightened around his shoulders. "No one, 懂了嗎? Not while I'm captain."


End file.
